


Wash The Chaos From My Skin

by Cozy_coffee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Community: comment_fic, M/M, Murder, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Serial Killer Sam Winchester, Twisted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23282707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/pseuds/Cozy_coffee
Summary: A fill for the comment_fic prompt; any, any, the urge to kill
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	Wash The Chaos From My Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cornerofmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/gifts).



There is blood everywhere. On Sam's hands; on the knife he held. On his dimpled cheeks and his soft lips and his hoodie which Dean stole from the mall for him last Christmas.

Damn it; he really liked this hoodie. It was a gift his big brother gave to him a while ago, back when he was still young and after a fresh kill. The hoodie is soft, cozy even, and because Dean borrows it from time to time when his clothes are ruined with blood and puss and spit from a new kill, it smells like him. Sam is going to have to give it a few strong washes to get the stench of death out of it.

The floor is stained with blood pools; bodies litter the surrounding space. The screams of those they hunted still vibrate in his mind, a pulsing wail that throbs through his head, starting at the base of his skull and shifting to his temples, and when he tries to stand, the remembrance of the sound flares white-hot and burning and drops his back to his knees. As much as he gets a hard on for hunting, the screams of their victims is something that sets his teeth on edge.

Dean loves it, lives for the thrill of their gasping sobs and desperate begging...and speaking of big brother, Dean strolls into the room with a swagger in his step and bloody knife in hand, a cocky grin his lips. The elder Winchester sees his brother drenches in blood and his smile only widens farther. Kneeling, Dean bows his head until they were forehead to forehead.

He closes his eyes, takes in a slow breath as he meets Sammy’s gaze. His beautiful brother is smiling with a twisted grin to match his own. By the time they get to the house, the hunger within them is ravenous, and once the beast has been unleashed, the house is rank with the aroma of blood and sweat.

The sound of crying and screaming drifted through the air. Dean stood in the center of the living room with his gaze set on his brother, who was busy carving up his newest toy. Smiling, Sam gazed down at the girl who was kneeling before him. She was crying and praying, and begging to be spared. She wouldn’t be—they wouldn’t let her.

For the horrors of this night, Abby had been forced to watch her entire family as they were tortured then killed, all at the hands of the two men who had broken into her home. They were demons—she was sure of it. Even if they didn’t have black eyes like in horror stories, they had smiles that made her blood run cold. They killed without so much as a hint of humanity.

Her mother lay on the floor to her left and her sister to the right, both of them dead, their intestines and organs scattered on the living room floor. Another sob seeped from between her lips and she felt the tears burning her eyes as she listened to her brother scream. As his screams carried on for moments on end, she prayed for God to send his angels to stop these evil men.

God didn’t hear her prayers; slowly, the screams faded as her brother took his last breath. The boy lay dead on the floor, his eyes staring lifelessly up at the ceiling. Tears slid down Abby’s cheeks as she felt Dean’s fingers in her hair, petting her with an almost tender affection. She remained frozen with fear, still praying as Dean spoke.

“Hey, Sammy, what do you think we should do with this one? She’s the last.”

Sam scoffed, not really caring. He pouted as he looked at the blade in his hand, covered and dripping with blood. He looked to the boy, seeing tears still lingering in his lifeless eyes. Sam wasn’t happy now; his toy was dead—just when he was starting to have fun too. “I don’t give a damn what you do with the whore, Dean. Just fuck her, slit her throat and let’s move on. Dad should be finished with his hunt; he’s probably back home waiting for us.”

Dean’s smile grew at the thought of their father; John was out on a hunt as well, no doubt picking up some pretty little thing with big breasts, curvy hips and cock sucking lips. Dean hoped they made it back before his father sliced into her—he always did love to watch his father play with his toys.

“Okay, let’s wrap this up and get back to dad. You can have this one first, Sammy,” Dean replied with a twisted grin. “Have fun, baby boy.”

And that was exactly what Sam did; although it was quick when he slit Abby’s throat, it was almost too easy to kill her, watching her take her last breath soothed the hunger within him.

Taking his brother’s hand, Dean and Sam gathered their things then left the house. They were skilled in covering their tracks; the house was in the center of nowhere in the middle of a bum fuck town that had maybe 150 people in it. The place was a ghost town; it wasn’t even on the map. If the bodies were found it would be after they were long gone and had moved onto another town.

♥ END ♥

**Author's Note:**

> [Written for this prompt!](https://comment-fic.livejournal.com/1083000.html?thread=114086776#t114086776)


End file.
